Of Tears and Mysteries
by Hanzatsu-Hime
Summary: ZoroxNami ZoNa What would you do if a very dear nakama mate came up to you out of the blue and was crying their heart out? How would you react? Would you turn them away, or offer them comfort? One point of view, maybe another point of view later.


_**One Piece: **_

**Of Tears and Mysteries

* * *

**Standing before him, in the sparkling golden light of the eve's setting sun, was the clearly bewildered and distraught navigator of the Straw Hat crew. He could only see her brilliant chocolate eyes through the strands of hair she called bangs, but the cheeks of red she had and the shining tears she wore hinted to him how she was feeling. Her body was shaking slightly too; her shoulders looked as if they were twitching with a deep inner ache, while her chest bounced often with the struggle to stop her sobs. The unnatural view he had of his dear nakama was odd to him, and gave him the instinct to both run and comfort her to the best of his ability. Dealing with one's feelings was never something the swordsman was familiar nor comfortable with, since he could not even find the desire to deal with his own. With the time he had to look at her, to deduct a synopsis of her situation, he still thought he could not give her the emotional assistance she was clearly yearning for. Hatefully, he admitted to himself that the scene was giving him a sense of mixed thoughts and feelings. Feelings in which he was only to feel on the battlefield; the raw ambition to protect his comrades. 

He knew nothing of hearts, let alone a woman's heart. His own was simply there to add to his rushes of adrenaline, in dire situations when lives were at stake. He never took interest in such a thing, for he found it to be a distraction that guided the weak. Truthfully, he was not a heartless man. He believed others were free to enjoy and endure what they knew to be their reasons. He would never fight anyone on their own beliefs when it came to such a thing, whether be out of respect or the simple lack of concern. He also knew better then to dawdle in affairs with females. Females did not go off to war due to their hearts. Females were known as 'bad luck' on pirate ships for that induction. The only female he had ever taken the time to understand with an emotional depth was the one girl who nourished and created his dream, with without said goal, he would not be the man he is. No matter how special one female had been to him, he never wished to become that close to another again.

Maybe it was because of the pain he felt when he lost her. Maybe it was because of those rare tears that had fallen down his own face that he made him disdainful towards dealing with feminine issues. He was so young at the time, when he lost his dearest friend, with no one left in the world to love him the way he should have been loved. He cried in front of his sensei because he was unable to win against the stinging pain his piling tears had caused, and because he knew his sensei, more than anyone, would understand. However, as time passed, he dealt with the personal problems he had as an individual. Still regarding the woman before him, he thought to himself something he never thought before. How would he have felt, if when he had allowed himself to cry in front of another, like she was showing to him right now, if that person, whoever they were, suddenly pushed him away? How would he, Roronoa Zoro, the 'demon', have felt if he caved into his heart's desire and broke down in front of another, only to have them repel his desperation? For a man who claims to only feel what he chooses, how would that situation affect him? Would he even do such a thing to someone like Nami, who he often fought with and lost faith in, like she was doing at the very moment he was wondering?

Without even taking the time to debate with himself, he was sure he would despise it. He would despise the person, and himself, for allowing his heart to control him and turn him into a weak and pitiful man. With his sense of manly pride and his usual stoic demeanour, he would never find a reason to cry like she did in front of anyone else, maybe even in the privacy of his own space. This woman,

Nami the navigator, who never ceased to amaze all she came in contact with, somehow was able to fight the pride she was known to have, and had requested the help of the 'demon' himself. Her logic never made sense to the likes of him. Some things she did astound him with awe and great curiosity, though he would never admit to it. Nevertheless, her evident display of sadness before him, though it was indeed one of those moments, made him take a chance he was only half-certain he should take, as he looked at her with eyes that held no judgement, no compassion or curiosity; just simply a blank, calm expression.

Seeing his expression angered her; he could tell by the creased eyebrows and her typical threatening clenched fists. Still, his thought-provoking thoughts in mind, he continued to give her a blank expression, almost like one she expected him to have at the sight of her turmoil expression. The shaking chill ran down her shoulders and into her curved hands, and her eyes held a darker look. He stared into her eyes as he normally would, blasé crossing fire with agitation. As he caught sight of the glimmering rivers that rolled down her cheeks, he suddenly noticed that she had taken up Vivi's nervous habit of biting her lower lip and began to think in puzzlement what else he never took the time to notice about this woman. He noticed she started to bite down harder, darken her stare even more and dig her nails into her palms as the shaking of her body became a steady force. Some force inside him, not knowing for sure if it was his gut or this heart he had been suddenly become fascinated with, drove him to offer words of concern to her, asking if she would kindly cease her physical torture.

However, his words never left his lips as she dropped to her knees so swiftly before him, he couldn't find the time to show any newly discovered compassion. And just ask quickly as she fell to the ground, she wrapped her arms around his body, just below his arms, and rested her head against his chest. Indeed, Zoro was not prepared for the physical closeness for once, and was merely expecting emotional confrontation. He had not concocted a method on how to console her in this manner, nor had he ever wanted to try. It was surely nervous and uncomfortable with the current position he found himself tangled within. Never in his life did he think he would be holding this woman. Technically, he had not given any physical attention, but the mere feel of her arms around him, her chest to his as her head rested on his collar bone was something that caused a swirl of reactions that enjoyed tormenting him.

"Just shut up," he surprisingly heard a muffled, cracking voice speak from the fabric of his cream-colored shirt, "and let me sit here."

He could not find any words as he racked his brain for his vocabulary that was a suitable reply to her. Moments passed him, tears continued to soak his shirt and leak through onto his skin, and yet he sat still to find some line to offer her. He had finally decided to let his feelings show through his tough exterior; if Nami could trust him with her tears, he could trust her with his real selfish and depressing indiscretions. To his disappointment, he concluded to a blank. His inner self, which he now decided to rely on as a means to comfort this one female, who he now admittedly had allowed his heart to trust, was not in the least bit of use to him.

Casting his sight downwards to observe her, she incontestably had not paid attention to his antsy fidgeting; she cried as though she was crying alone in her dark room. He started to blink, then fully closed his eyes and sighed soundly. Again, she took no notice, and with this chance, he decided to redeem himself, refusing to give into his distinct feeling of defeat. Awkwardly enough, doing his best to prove he was still trying his hardest, he wrapped his arms somewhat tightly around her, in the gentlest way the demonic ex-bounty hunter could. So absorbed in the reason of her tears, she continued to ignore his display of affection. Sighing once more, he let the matter go and congratulated himself for giving his heart a chance.

He never was to learn the reason she cried that night, nor the reason she decided to cling unto him. He never spoke of it again with her; it was as if the night never happened, as if they had both skipped that small amount of time in their lives. If so, they had gone over the time together, and in a way that benefitted both of them. Zoro had discovered he could show his feelings to someone after many years of inner solitude. It would take a trying process to open to her as much as he wished to, and it was something he was willing to try. It helped that he was more then sure Nami knew she had found someone to whom she could convey her feelings with, which was a incredible fleet in their relationship. It would take time and practice, but it was something he knew they both truly wanted more than anything.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I plan to write another ZoroxNami lemon soon. I simply need the right inspiration. The winners of the ZoNa Story Contest will be announced in My Soul Duty's next chapter, which I promise is in the works.

Enjoy, R & R!


End file.
